Different
by Prongs is mine
Summary: I used to think of him as just one of those popular jocks, but now I know that he is more than that. He is different.


I spent time writing an author's note at the beginning and the end of this story. But then, two seconds ago, my internet was all like "We hate you so we are going to delete it randomly... just for fun!" so yeah, that is why you are left with me typing out my madness!

I hope you enjoy the story. It is a bit different than the other I wrote

Have fun [haha]:

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**Different**

He is always different

I didn't always think this. I used to imagine him the most popular and jockiest guy at school. But then I learned that he just _does_ sports. It isn't his life, "but it is more of a distraction," he says. And I believe him

What he distracts himself from doing or thinking, I hope I will get to find out.

He is supposed to be that guy. Who has no issues, besides maybe getting a broken rib from falling off his broom, or turning in an E grade paper instead of an O.

But those are his distractions. That does happen to him, but those are only distractions.

Last year, he was just one of those guys to me. One of those blessed men who are attractive and people laugh with during class and after the final bell. The person who was at the last dance, last party, last meeting with all of the other cool people.

But then I _watch_. He _isn't _always smiling. He is known for that smile, yet he isn't smiling. "He's having troubles with Alexis," Mary whispers into my ear when I mentioned it. And he _is_ having troubles with Alexis.

I never thought of him as one of those guys who notices or cares about their girlfriend. He was the guy who would have a new one once every two weeks. But I know that isn't true _anymore_, or was it _ever _true?

School started up again six months ago. I began to _watch_ him five months ago. I cried for the first time over a guy four months ago. They had their huge fight three months ago. He promised her everything two months ago. And one month ago? Well he hasn't broken that promise, has he? Of course he hasn't. He is different than all the other boys our age.

The one thing every girl noticed about the male population right when we entered Hogwarts for the first time was that they were always very protective about their stupid hats, which of course had an etching of their favorite Quidditch team on it. This was, and still is, their baby.

Every boy here has one, or at least I would bet you one million galleons last year that every boy has one. Now though, now I want to cry in shock. James doesn't.

And that one little detail about him shows so much! He doesn't care what they think, and for that, everyone respects him. Everyone wants to be like him. Everyone _wants _to not care. Everyone wants to wear those cool striped tights, but knows that they could not bear wearing them when everyone else is wearing brown and green plaid socks. Everyone wants to wear the half-off silver Keds, but we know that when we come back to school we will find everyone else wearing full-priced black Vans and just shrink from self-consciousness.

Some like the attention.

But him, he doesn't like attention. He doesn't _not _like the attention, either. Everyone respects him because he doesn't give a shit if his glasses are invisible or not. Because really, it won't matter soon.

The things that do matter are the things that teenagers are not caring about. Or aren't supposed to care about.

Those grades and relationships and thoughts are always supposed to be in our mind, but we are told to just stop with those _grown up _opinions. Stop, because we are young. That is too deep for you guys. You should know better. We don't need to worry about that right now.

James tramples over the idiots who discourage us and doesn't look back, because they are useless. He doesn't get good grades, build relationships, and think because he knows it is '_right'_. It just makes him feel better. It is what he _wants _to do.

And sure, he can have a favorite Quidditch team in mind, but he even says that he is "smart enough to realize that _really_, those are just distractions. They help us out, or so we say." When ever he shows his big thoughts about the world to me, I have an urge to shout.

To yell about as I run. Run away from this brainwashing community and take him with me! Because we are better than them! We like to get good grades and have relationships and think for ourselves! We want to search further into the meanings of songs and books and independent films, and don't really see the point in sitting next to that loser who keeps discussing that one thing this one girl said to him about that guy who talked to those hotties down at the Hog's Head. We can care less.

He can care less. I can care less. But does _Alexis _care less, or is she 'this one girl'? "Sure, she cares," Dorcus tries to convince, while I just want to slap her. How can she care? She doesn't even understand! She doesn't realize! But I know that there is more to _her _too. James isn't the only glistening gold person in the world. He likes her, so why wouldn't I?

He talks about her in conversations, about the time they got locked in the library together. "That is how we became a couple," James tells me one day when I ask. The _library_? But that is romantic. And she _knows _it is romantic. She rubs it in my face.

Because "Alexis has a human brain filled with complicated material," a nameless Ravenclaw snaps at me one afternoon when I am gurgling about how she cheated on her transfiguration essay.

Well screw her! She is 'smart'. She has a 'complicated' life. She is not only 'beautiful'. Fine then. She is different than everyone else, too. She distracts herself also. From her scary and dramatic life I want to never know about.

They _both _have a life.

So I have to watch _two _people be different, and _two _people try to distract themselves from their life. And I watch and I watch and I watch and I stop. Because I am now distracted.

Thankfully, I realize that I am getting low on my brown and green plaid socks and my full-price black Vans. I confidently walk to Hogsmeade, forcefully push the thick door open, and march through the arch, now witnessing him purchase a hat with his favorite Quidditch team on it.

And he isn't different anymore. He is not James anymore when he talks to me, when he stares at me, as he looks at me confusingly and whispers to me under his breath. James is no where near James while wearing that ugly black and green hat, covering his messy black hair and perfectly pale forehead, and I still have to face him.

I still have to face him and walk past him when he is arm in arm with Alexis, who wears the original dress that she purchased at a clothing store where thousands of other copies lie, when he still has the hat on, passing another teenage boy with that exact same hat with those exact same black and green colors and this exact same etching made with the same string, bought by that one sewing store.

James Potter is not so different, after all.

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Did you like it?

As i said, it is different. It's kind of sad, too, but we need sadness in our life, right? Sorry to all of you who already have sadness and I am mimicking it with a very low rate of sadness. Too bad for you! I ended up writing a sort of sad one... and felt like I should be publishing a new story (because all I've been doing is updating my chapter stories)

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW, please!

-Maia


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